Rebosar
by Fruit Smoothie Revenge
Summary: A TR fic. I really like this one a lot. It doesn't have the uplifting ending that most of my stories do. "Rebosar" is Spanish for "to overflow"; in this case, it's emotions. Please R&R!


She held the top of his head with one hand, caressed his cheek gently, silently with her other. Her look conveyed a quiet need, but he wasn't sure what she wanted, or how he could give it to her.  
  
His eyes widened as he unexpectedly felt a pair of lips meet his, her tongue softly slipping over his own. Why was it this deep? He felt like she wsa trying to drink some nectar he had buried inside of him, to douse her pain in ambient touch.  
  
She broke away reluctantly from him. It was the first look in his eyes that sent the tears cascading down her cheeks. She rested her arms on his shoulders, lacing her fingers together as a loose reassurance. Head rested on his shoulder, she whispered to him, the despair deeply embedded in her wavering voice.  
  
"Sometimes it feels like the world is against you, doesn't it?"  
  
He placed his hands on her hips, and his touch evoked the reaction of moving closer towards him.  
  
"Almost every day, James, every day it feels like no one is on my side."  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but he felt that it be best to leave his side of the conversation where it was at.  
  
"God damn it... I know, I know you're there, you keep telling me that when I get into these stupid fits. But... shit... you know those feelings where even if you were surrounded by a group of people, and it was the best day in the world, that you still couldn't get out of your depression? That's just today, OK? It's just the way I feel."  
  
He had no other words to sacrifice other than, "It's OK, Jess, it'll be OK."  
  
She lifted her head, looked into his eyes. Her face was a melange of emotion; he could read anger, fear, regret, and melancholy all between the folds of her lashes.  
  
"But you've said that to me so many times, James. How many more times is it going to take to be OK? I want it to be OK -now-. I don't want to live with all this hurt inside my heart. I want it to go away. I want it to go away!"  
  
She let her hands drop, her arms fall to her sides. She clutched her head in confusion, drops still crawling across the rouged cheeks. "I..."  
  
A faint whimper, an abandoned sigh faded into the air. The fabric of his shirt became tight around her fingers as she gripped the front of it. "I... don't know how you can do that for me anymore."  
  
He let his grip loosen, but she cried out as soon as she felt the lightened touch. "Don't let go!" she pleaded.  
  
He wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's not you. It's not you at all. You're still the only person that could ever mean anything to me. It's just... I don't think that I can do this with any help from anyone else. It's a problem -inside- -me-. And I don't have anyone else that I can deal with this with except myself."  
  
"But for now," she kissed his collarbone, "I need you to be here. I don't care if all you do is lie beside me at night and keep me company. I don't care if all you say to me is 'Hello,' or, 'Give me the remote'. I -don't- -care-. I need you."  
  
Her gaze connected with his. "I'm serious. You're the only thing keeping me here." Fresh tears flowed from her eyes. "I don't think I could go on living if you weren't here."  
  
It made him sick to his stomach, the thought of her doing something so awful... He pictured the blood dripping down her arm, as she sat there doing nothing to save herself... He banished the scene from his mind.  
  
He squeezed her tight, almost making her skip a breath.  
  
"You're not leaving."  
  
He didn't realize that he could sound so decisive. The exigency of the woman in his arms rang through his ragged voice like it never had before.  
  
"You're not leaving me, Jess. I'll help you with anything you need, and I want to make it all better. I'll do anything in my power for you. I promise."  
  
"Don't humor me, James."  
  
He only held her tighter. "I would never do that to you."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Damn it, Jessie, would I really do that?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"No, you wouldn't. I'm..."  
  
"Don't apologize."  
  
He ran his hand through her hair. "Why don't you go lay down for a while? You've obviously had a hard day." He let go of her, and she let her palms slip down his front and swing to her sides. He lead her over to the bedroom door.  
  
"And I'll be here if you need to talk or anything."  
  
"Fine."  
  
She turned the knob and opened the door. He threaded his fingers through her hair one last time, let the strands run over his fingertips as she walked under the doorway and shut the door.  
  
"I almost can't take it anymore..." His head was in his hands. 


End file.
